


Cocoa With a Classmate

by LittleSixx



Series: Dramione - Twelve Days of Ficmas [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Chance Meetings, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Coffee Shops, F/M, Ficlet, Hot Chocolate, Meet-Cute, POV Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: Hermione unexpectedly runs into a classmate while on a quest for hot cocoa.





	Cocoa With a Classmate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iheartdracomalfoy4life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iheartdracomalfoy4life/gifts), [gentledove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentledove/gifts), [Im_Not_Throwing_My_Spell (Radiant_And_Alone)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiant_And_Alone/gifts), [ChrissyTRam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissyTRam/gifts), [StassA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StassA/gifts).



> Part of my "Twelve Days of Ficmas," as found via a prompt list on Tumblr. This prompt was "hot chocolate or a snowball fight." I'll have eleven more fics to continue the story, which can be read as a contiguous narrative or standalone. Rated T for mild language.

The hot chocolate at Ministry Munchies was nothing more than dirty water with soggy marshmallows. They only put in marshmallows to mask the taste, and it made things worse. The Senior Undersecretary’s office was freezing, so Hermione took her lunch at a Muggle café just off St. Martin’s Lane. It was a ten-minute walk from the phone booth and the people-watching was superb. It was the beginning of November, so snow had begun to fall. Tourists scrambled inside nearby buildings and huddled beneath awnings. Hermione stuffed her hands in her pockets, having left her gloves lying on her desk. The little things had begun to slip her mind as of late.

Hermione glanced at her watch and estimated she had twenty minutes to sit and sip her cocoa. She chose Notes because they had the perfect ratio of chocolate, not too thick or too thin. It was a nice escape from the office, with Muggles of all sorts filtering in. Some of them sat for a moment, some left immediately after getting their dry-but-not-terrible croissants, and others looked as though they had been sitting and talking for hours. About halfway through Hermione’s allotted break, she stuttered in surprise and hot cocoa dribbled out her nose.

A very familiar blond head was visible at the end of the line. He wore a black coat and a black turtleneck, but there was no way that man could blend in anywhere. Hermione wiped beneath her nose and fluffed her hair out to hide her face. On second thought, that was probably the wrong move considering the last person she wanted to see had walked into the café. He was impossible to miss even in a crowd; the tall, blond human disaster that was Draco Malfoy. The last Hermione had seen of him, he was on trial before the Wizengamot. He certainly wasn’t that person anymore.

Hermione peeked between her fingers to catch him staring at her. Those grey eyes held a lot of things over the years: hatred, desperation, racist arseholeishness to name a few. But just then they were filled with amused curiosity. Hermione felt her cheeks pinken and put her hand up to hide her eyes again. She stared at the table and waited to hear the bell above the door ring to signal Malfoy’s exit. She did not expect him to pull out the chair across from her and sit down.

“Granger.”

She groaned and greeted him with a noncommittal, “Malfoy.” He smirked.

“If I did not know better, I’d say you are not exactly pleased to see me.”

“What the hell are you doing in a Muggle café?” Hermione asked. It wasn’t the question she expected to ask, and it didn’t appear Malfoy was prepared for such a safe question. He tilted his head to one side like a curious puppy, but the smirk did not disappear.

“I stop here before attending to Ministry business. That place in the lobby is rubbish at everything, and that might be an insult to rubbish. I like it here because their cocoa is not too, um, watery.”

Hermione took a long sip from her own cup once he looked away. She tucked some hair behind her ear and made a nervous popping noise with her lips.

“You … Look well?” Hermione said. She didn’t mean to phrase it as a question, but she didn’t know if it was the proper thing to say.

“Thanks, Granger, you look like hell. what does Minister Shacklebolt have you doing, trying to catch rogue memos?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took another sip of cocoa.

“Wow, Malfoy, you truly know how to charm a girl,” she said facetiously.

“Oh, am I meant to be charming you?” he teased.

“A Blast-ended Skrewt would have better luck.”

“With you? Perhaps,” Malfoy admitted. “Weasley always did have a bit of a Skrewtish look to him.”

Hermione didn’t take the bait. She just rolled her eyes again and downed the rest of her cocoa. She took a closer look at him, then. Life since the war had aged him. Not in an unattractive way, necessarily, but there were pronounced lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. She shook the thought away and said,

“Shows how much you read the papers. Ron and I broke off the engagement two years ago.”

“Oh?” Malfoy asked. He nodded and said, “Congratulations are in order.”

Hermione couldn’t hold back a giggle.

“How could you not know? It was everywhere for weeks until Harry and Ginny announced their baby.”

“I do not read the papers,” Draco said. He anxiously tapped his knuckles on the edge of the table. “I have enough people who say they hate me to my face, don’t much need to see it in print.”

“Oh,” Hermione said aloud. She stood up, and on Merlin’s grave she didn’t know why she asked but, “Walk me out?”

Malfoy nodded and held the door for her. She stopped and almost laughed because what a ridiculous scenario. Draco Malfoy was holding a door open for her. Then she walked through the doorway and slipped on a patch of ice. Draco caught her elbow and steadied her.

“Some things never change,” he quipped. “You’ll be Minister and still tripping over yourself at the sight of a book you haven’t read.”

Hermione wrenched her elbow from his grasp and mumbled, “Thanks, you bloody prick.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied cheerily. “Are you returning to the Ministry?”

Hermione nodded.

“Good then, I will accompany you.”

“I don’t need you to ‘accompany me,’” Hermione insisted with air quotes. “I can walk back on my own.”

“We are going to the same place. If I do not accompany you then you’ll simply follow me for the next ten minutes.”

“Fine,” Hermione huffed. “What are you heading to the Ministry for?”

“I have an appointment with the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Malfoy answered. They walked in silence for several moments before Hermione said,

“Are you going to make me ask why?”

“Yes.”

They stopped to wait for a light and Hermione considered not giving him the satisfaction. She lasted all of ten seconds.

“Why then?”

“There seems to be an issue with my import of white peacocks for the gardens,” Draco answered.

“And you are attempting to have the barriers eliminated?” Hermione asked.

“I believe they are barriers created specifically for me,” he replied. “Some in the department need to be reminded that vendettas work in both directions.”

“Isn’t MacMillan head of the department?”

“He is,” Malfoy confirmed. “And you are quick as ever.”

Hermione stopped. Draco made it a few more steps before turning to face her.

“Was that a compliment?” Hermione asked. It was Malfoy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I thought we had a nice moment there, do not ruin it.”

Hermione continued their jaunt back to the phone booth in silence. She didn’t want to risk ruining their interaction because it had been almost pleasant. Considering the freezing hell she was about to return to, even pleasantries with Draco Malfoy was preferable. He opened the phone booth door for her and gave her a small wave.

“Nice seeing you, Granger.”

“You too, Malfoy.”

**.oOo.**

She escaped the Ministry at the same time on Tuesday. Hermione took the same route, saw new people, and even remembered her gloves this time. Tuesdays are always better than Mondays. Though, she supposed her cocoa break might not be.

Hermione was surprised to see Malfoy already in the café when she arrived. While they made her cocoa, she considered leaving without a word. They weren’t friends, after all, it could hardly be considered rude after what he had done. But Hermione had lingering questions. When she approached the table Malfoy nodded to the open chair.

“Saved you a seat.”

“How did you know I would be back?” Hermione asked, plopping into the chair without ceremony. Draco shrugged in response.

“I didn’t. I am required back at the Ministry today so I stopped in for more cocoa. Figured you may be in as well before I leave.”

“Ah,” Hermione said. She sipped her cocoa and tried to remember why she sat down.

“Do you enjoy being Senior Undersecretary?” Draco asked. “It seems like a thankless job, though I am certain you are much more suited than that pink hag who used to hold the title.”

“It was a low bar to match,” Hermione conceded. “I don’t like it much but someone has to keep the wizarding world from falling apart. Minister Shacklebolt takes care of the big things and I fix what remains.”

“You want to be Minister.”

It wasn’t a question so Hermione chose not to grace him with an answer.

“How were things after your Ministry visit yesterday?”

“Dismal,” Malfoy said. “MacMillan was ‘out of the office,’ which is just code for ‘too terrified to come out.’ So I return today.”

“Perhaps a gentler tone would yield better results,” Hermione suggested. Draco snorted mid-sip and laughed even as he coughed up cocoa. Hermione giggled as well because, well, it was rather funny.

“I could walk into that office with a basket of puppies and they still would not speak to me.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Hermione asked. “Do you need white peacocks? Are regular peacocks beneath you? Do they not complement the colour of your trees?”

Draco smiled wanly.

“Does it matter why I want them?” he asked. “I want them and it is legal for me to have them. Technically, they are not even magical creatures, they are Muggle creatures, so the department has no authority and I would tell MacMillan as much if he would just get off his arse and open the door.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. His fingers gripped his cup just a bit too tightly and the lines around his mouth became more pronounced.

“You don’t want to tell me,” Hermione said.

“There is nothing to tell,” Draco snapped back.

“You are a rubbish actor, Malfoy, and we both know it.” Hermione shrugged. “Tell me or don’t, but I may have a way to smooth things over if you do.”

Draco raised an eyebrow and sighed.

“My mother likes them. After my father died she kept lots of things that reminded her of him. I do not usually indulge that sort of thing, but she is rather insistent. We disagree, but I cannot bring myself to deny her the simple things I can do, you know?”

Hermione nodded.

“I will get your peacocks, Malfoy,” she insisted. Draco snickered, but he was not laughing a half hour later when Hermione led him into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She walked up to the secretary and said,

“Please tell Ernie the Senior Undersecretary is here to see him.”

The secretary seemed a bit perplexed. She looked from Hermione to Malfoy and back to Hermione. She hesitantly got up and slid into MacMillan’s office. She returned thirty seconds later followed by a very flustered Ernie MacMillan.

“Hello, Ernie!” Hermione greeted. When Draco didn’t say anything, Hermione elbowed him in the side. He grumbled,

“MacMillan.”

“Malfoy,” Ernie nodded before turning his gaze on Hermione. “What brings you to my office?”

“Can we meet in your office or do you insist we meet out here?” she replied.

“I find it’s best to meet with Malfoy around as many witnesses as possible,” Ernie quipped. Hermione saw Draco reach for his wand so she grabbed his wrist.

“It is not my fault you and Finch-Fletchley duel like a couple of Cornish Pixies,” Malfoy snapped.

“We are here to discuss the peacocks,” Hermione interjected. “Nothing more. I just want to know what we need to do for Draco to legally import …” She leaned to Draco and asked, “How many?”

“Twelve,” he said. “I need twelve white peacocks for a total of one hundred eight Galleons. Give or take based on the conversion rate, but MacMillan here insists I have to pay an import tax.”

“You can afford it!” Ernie insisted.

“That’s not the point!” Draco shouted. “I can afford lots of things! I could buy your house with the change I find in my sofa.”

“Then why does this matter?” Ernie shouted back. “The Department is in need of funds and you sneeze Galleons! It is a ten-percent tax!”

“They are not magical creatures, Ernie,” Hermione interjected once again. “Technically, the Department has no authority to prevent the import of Malfoy’s peacocks. If Minister Shacklebolt was to hear you are blackmailing him …” Hermione trailed off and shrugged, noncommittal. She turned on her heel and walked back to her office.

**.oOo.**

Hermione considered not going to the café on Wednesday. The past two days were some of the best lunches she’d had in ages. None of the popping up to see Ron in British Quidditch HQ for one of their awkward lunches where they avoid discussing his girlfriend and Hermione’s lack of a boyfriend. No lunches with Harry where she avoids discussing the Auror Office. Hell, she’d take lunch with Luna just to get some honest conversation.

She went to Notes because she was curious. Did Draco get his peacocks? Why would he be there if he did? Either way, there would be no reason for him to return to the Ministry. Hermione felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought. Draco was honest conversation with no boundaries. She didn’t have concern about offending him because he deserved it. But … It was also nice to help him do something nice for his mum … Even if his mum was a racist asshat.

She stopped in the doorway and scanned the store. No bright blond head anywhere and Hermione wanted to be relieved, but she was just disappointed. She paid and took her seat at their table.

_My table._

Hermione stared at the door and watched as people filtered in. Each time the bell rang above the door, Hermione hoped Malfoy would walk through. Lunch had been so interesting the past few days that she couldn’t pretend people-watching was satisfying.

She left twenty minutes later, careful not to slip on her way out.

**.oOo.**

Hermione did not plan to return to Notes on Thursday. She stood in line for Ministry Munchies, but one person walked by with their cup of cocoa and Hermione wasn’t willing to submit herself to that again. Five minutes later than usual, Hermione dashed out of the Ministry and began the walk to the café. She hopped up the stairs, walked past the pastry display, and ordered her cocoa. She thanked the people behind the counter and turned toward her table.

“Oh!” she yelped and sloshed cocoa over her glove. She couldn’t be certain Draco was smiling since his back was to her, but she would put money on it. Hermione slid into her usual seat and took off her gloves. She magicked the cocoa off when no one was looking.

“Statute of Secrecy violation,” Draco teased. “I may report you for that.”

“Don’t be a prick,” Hermione said with a smile. “Did you get your peacocks?”

“They should arrive sometime next week in fact,” Draco said, raising his cocoa cup to her. “Thank you. I enjoyed seeing vaguely threatening Hermione Granger, by the way. MacMillan nearly pissed himself once you’d gone. Couldn’t get me out of the office quick enough.”

“Ernie’s a good person,” Hermione insisted. “I don’t know what would have prompted him to target you like this.”

“Being Draco Malfoy is reason enough for most people,” he replied. There was a heavy bitterness in his tone. “But to be fair, I made mistakes and the world will continue to punish me for them. Not everyone feels safe to sit down for a cup of cocoa.”

“Oh, I’ve never been afraid of you.” Hermione laughed and Draco smiled.

“I know. Why are you talking to me?” he asked. Hermione was surprised by the question.

“I need a lunch partner,” she admitted. “I don’t need to worry about common decency since you’ve done your worst to me. Your thanks-for-helping-me-escape-Azkaban gift was very nice, by the way. I almost couldn’t accept it, but … I really wanted it.”

“Figured you would,” Draco said. His smile widened. “And I enjoy your candor, it’s almost respectful.”

“Almost?” Hermione asked.

“Almost.”

“Fuck off, you and your bloody cocks.” She paused, cringed, and shouted, “PEACOCKS!” It was too late. She let her head fall into her hands and when she looked up Draco had a fist against his mouth to try to contain his laughter. She kicked him beneath the table and looked around. “People are beginning to stare!”

“Oh, sorry,” Draco said, lowering his chuckle to a reasonable level. “I can see the _Witch Weekly_ headline now: ‘The Malfoy, The Muggle-born, and a Dozen Cocks.’”

“Stop!” Hermione said, struggling to concern her own laughter. Her cheeks must have been bright red. She asked, “Why are you here if your Ministry business is sorted?”

“Because I was not here yesterday,” Draco answered cryptically. Hermione stared at him until he added, “Lunch without you was boring so I decided to pop in again.”

“It is nice not to have to be careful about what I say,” Hermione conceded. “I was bored without you as well. Is that odd?”

Draco shook his head.

“Who is your normal lunch partner to make my company seem so tolerable?” he asked.

“Now? My ex-fiance,” Hermione said. Draco made a face of displeasure and Hermione chuckled at the way the mere implication of Ron made his face scrunch up. He got a little eleven between his eyes while his eyebrows knitted together. “Harry is going through a lot right now; the war catches up with him sometimes. Gin’s still training with the Harpies. Alicia is Ron’s girlfriend and Angelina is at home with her daughter, Molls. Katie works nights at St. Mungo’s and sleeps during lunch. Padma is too busy for me and Parvati works at _Witch Weekly_. I’ve gone through everyone it seems, so it’s you or Luna Lovegood.”

“I am happily your last resort,” he teased.

“Second-to-last,” Hermione corrected.

“A compliment coming from you?” Draco asked.

“Indeed.”

**.oOo.**

“Hermione, would you mind taking a late lunch today?” Minister Shacklebolt asked. Hermione paused, hand on her office door and coat hanging off one arm. She grimaced but schooled her face into a neutral expression before turning to face him.

“Actually, Minister, I have plans for lunch. Is it something I can do when I return in a half hour? I can make it twenty minutes if you need.”

Minister Shacklebolt paused comically, stone-still for a moment. He asked,

“Plans? Hermione, do you have a date?”

Hermione scoffed.

“No! No, absolutely not. It’s just cocoa with an old …” _What can I say? He’s not a friend._ “Classmate. Cocoa with a classmate is all. One I haven’t seen in several years.”

“Don’t let me keep you from your date, then,” the Minister said with a chuckle.

“Not a date!” Hermione said over her shoulder as she ran toward the door.

“No, you are just rushing off to coffee with someone at a planned time as you have every other day this week. Certainly not a date,” he teased. Hermione chose to ignore him because it was rude to give your boss the middle finger.

Draco was not in the café when Hermione arrived. She paid and took the seat by the wall, waiting for him to walkin. They hadn’t agreed to it, but she enjoyed his company and he seemed to enjoy hers. Lunch wasn’t something she dreaded anymore. It was weird but she needed someone in her life who wasn’t attached to her relationship with Ron. It clouded everything and Draco was blessedly cloud-free.

He didn’t show after five minutes and Hermione nearly gave up hope. Malfoy had never proven himself reliable. But then the bell above the door chimed and she saw him. His eyes found her immediately, as though he’d been wondering whether to come as well. Hermione held up her cocoa and he nodded. Draco purchased cocoa and a croissant before taking the open chair across from Hermione.

“Those are a bit dry,” she said, gesturing to his croissant.

“Oi, warn a man next time,” Draco teased. He opened the cocoa and dunked his croissant in it. Hermione made a face.

“That’s disgusting.”

“You said it was dry,” Draco said with a shrug. “Do not look at me like you’ve never dipped anything in cocoa before.”

“I haven’t,” Hermione said. “Sweets and starches don’t go together like that. My parents would kill me if they knew I had this much sugar every day anyway. They have a saying: one cocoa a day gets the dentists their pay.”

Draco shook his head. He dipped his croissant in the cocoa again then held it out to Hermione.

“Try it.”

She considered not taking it and telling him to stuff his pointy nose in his hot cocoa. But she didn’t because, damn, curiosity. Life had become so mundane, what harm could a croissant do? Hermione took it and bit off a sizeable chunk. She chewed, and chewed, and chewed until she took another bite because it was delicious.

“Glad you like it,” Draco said, “but give it back now.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, taking another bite just to annoy him. “You’re right, it’s good.”

“Yes, well, if you eat any more then it’s really yours, isn’t it? And if I buy your food, I believe that makes this a date.”

Hermione stopped chewing.

She swallowed and said, “Oh.”

“I’ll take that back, then,” Draco said, hand proffered. Instead, Hermione grabbed the cup of cocoa and dunked the croissant in again. Draco tilted his head to one side again.

“Do you want it back?” Hermione asked, tentative. Draco hesitated before pulling his hand back. Hermione’s heart sped up so quickly a Snitch’s wings would go green with envy.

“I am busy during lunch next Monday, would you do dinner instead?” he asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.”

Draco smiled, one that reached all the way to his eyes.

“Then it’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are always welcome! ♥ Hope you enjoyed this quickwrite!


End file.
